


Regards

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-08
Updated: 2004-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:45:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: "It's not the same," said Brian.  Post 414.





	Regards

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

As soon as Brian got off the plane, things were different.

“Hey,” said Brian, and came to a stop a couple of feet from Justin. He was carrying a briefcase in one hand and a carryon in the other, and seemed disinclined to put them down.

“Hi,” said Justin, “It’s – Oh my god, it’s so good to see you.” 

He sounded exactly like his mother. Brian raised an eyebrow and finally just dropped his luggage, stepped forward, and caught Justin in a kiss. 

Justin felt tears at the back of his throat, good tears, and he kissed Brian back. He wound his fingers in Brian’s shirt and hugged him close. God, he’d missed the feel of Brian, the warmth of him.

Brian melted into him for a second, and it was perfect, so perfect, and then suddenly their lips just weren’t lining up right. Brian’s mouth seemed like it was at a different tilt than what Justin remembered, or _something_ , he wasn’t sure. 

He also wasn’t sure if Brian broke away first or if he did.

Brian half-smiled and picked his luggage back up. “So, I get to see this apartment of yours?”

“The ceiling, at least,” Justin grinned, and Brian coughed.

“Right,” Brian said. “You tell yourself that.”

They stood for a second, staring at each other, and Justin finally motioned to the exit. “Umm, you wanna -?”

“Yeah,” said Brian.

“Do you need any help?” Justin gestured at Brian’s carryon.

“No,” said Brian. “No, I’ve got it.”

“Okay,” said Justin. 

He started walking and Brian followed. Justin was tempted a couple of times to take Brian’s arm or rest his hand on Brian’s hip, but he thought it might make Brian antsy. 

 

*

 

Brian tossed his carryon into the backseat of Justin’s car, and set his briefcase carefully in front of his feet. Justin started the vehicle.

“So, how’ve you been since we talked the other day?” Justin asked. 

“Fine,” Brian said. “Ted screwed up on one of the smaller accounts, and I had to play damage control. Nothing too dramatic.”

“Good old Ted,” said Justin.

“What about you?”

“Oh, nothing. The past few days we’ve been working on designs and mockups for the Rage helicopter, did I tell you that?”

“Yeah, you did,” said Brian.

“Well, yeah. We’re still working on that. It’s coming along nicely.” Justin shrugged and looked out at the sun. It was getting lower in the sky, late afternoon.

“Good,” said Brian.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, then traffic backed up and left them stationary. Brian kept looking out the front window, eyes fixed on the road. 

“Hey,” said Justin. 

Brian blinked and turned to look at him, and Justin gave him a slight smile. “Why is this so weird?” Justin said. “It doesn’t seem like it should be.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah, I’m just out of it. The plane trip got to me.”

“Ah,” said Justin. “Not enough complimentary booze?”

Brian made a face. “Complimentary? What airlines have _you_ been flying lately?”

Justin laughed, and a minute later the traffic started moving again.

 

*

 

They went up the outside stairs to Justin’s second-level apartment. As soon as Justin opened the door, Brian brushed past him and tossed his bags on the floor, then turned and tugged Justin in by the belt loops. 

Justin made a surprised noise, and the door swung shut behind him. Brian breathed heavy in his ear, and Justin thought Brian might be asking where the bedroom was, but he couldn’t hear him clearly. The feeling of Brian’s body against his, full and hard, was one he hadn’t had in five months, and he wasn’t going to waste the time by thinking.

“Where’s the bed?” Brian repeated impatiently. “Or do you want to do it on the floor?”

Justin groaned and turned his face into Brian’s cheek, kissing him quickly. “Bed,” he said faintly, “straight through the hall.”

Brian nearly yanked him off his feet, but Justin followed willingly, and let himself be thrown onto the bed, which he hadn’t bothered to make that morning because he knew that Brian could mess it up again within two seconds.

Brian leaned over Justin, pinning Justin’s hands beside his head and pressing down with his hips. Justin jerked. “Fuck,” he breathed. 

Brian grunted, then let go of Justin’s hands and cradled his face, staring at him intently. “Did you miss this?” His eyelids flickered. “Did you miss my cock?”

Justin nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah.”

“Good,” said Brian, and started taking Justin’s clothes off.

Justin felt like he was being unpeeled in layers. Brian’s hands skimmed down, fabric shed at his fingertips. Justin lay back and let him do what he wanted, only reaching up to take off Brian’s tie and unbutton his shirt. 

Brian sat back far enough to untuck his shirt and pitch it to the side, then he shoved his slacks down halfway and slammed against Justin again, pressing him to the mattress. Brian’s kiss was almost violent, but not quite, not enough. Justin rubbed against him, cock-to-cock now, and Brian drew away enough to push Justin over onto his front.

“Gonna fuck you so hard,” Brian murmured. “You’re going to feel me for weeks.”

Justin groaned at the words. He heard a condom packet ripped open, and the flip of a cap. Brian’s cock pushed into him, hard and thick and still cold from the freshly applied lube. 

“Ahh! –“ Justin tensed up at the stabbing pain. It’d been awhile. Brian kissed the back of his neck and pressed into him further.

“Yeah,” said Brian. “Fuck, you’re so –“

Justin relaxed his muscles and felt himself stretching out with the width of Brian’s cock. It was good now, really good, and it hadn’t just ‘been awhile,’ it had been way too long since _Brian_ had been inside him.

Brian bit at his neck again and eased out, then slammed back in. Eased out a little more quickly, slammed back in. Justin’s legs jerked and he had to rest his forehead on the rumpled sheets to keep the room from spinning. 

Justin felt so needy, like he’d been saving up all his loneliness and wishing for the exact moment he was able to act on it. It rose in him, choked him. The need - needing Brian, needing home, needing Brian, needing someone’s hands that knew him, needing familiarity, needing _Brian_. 

He remembered lying in bed, phone in one hand, dick in the other. He would imagine Brian’s voice still attached to the rest of him, he’d close his eyes and try to feel Brian by his side. It never worked.

One of Brian’s hands clutched at his shoulder, pushed his body down into the sheets. Justin craned his neck back and took his weight off one arm. He reached for Brian’s hand to twine their fingers together, like they’d always done, but Brian didn’t notice him grasping. Brian’s hand stayed on his shoulder, clamping down. It was almost impersonal.

Justin shivered, and blamed it on the cock ramming into him. 

Brian wasn’t talking. They always talked, or at least, they always made noise. Low and throaty and they always, _always_ -

“Stop,” said Justin.

He hadn’t even known he was going to say it. Brian didn’t hear him, or didn’t believe him, because he kept pumping, thrusting, and Justin couldn’t stand it, not when Brian wasn’t _with_ him, not now. 

Because that was exactly it, it was like Brian wasn’t actually _there_. It’d been that way since they got in the door, Justin realized, and his stomach twisted. 

Brian wasn’t fucking him, they weren’t reuniting, Brian was doing what he thought he was supposed to. He was following a formula, and didn’t even know. And Justin had let them fall right into it. Fuck. No.

“ _Stop_ ,” he said again, “Brian –“ the thrusting slowed – “Please, just. Don’t.” 

Brian stopped moving in him, ran a hand along his back, asked, “Did I hurt you?” in a worried voice. 

“No,” said Justin, “I –“ he pushed Brian back, twisting his hips to get free.

“Fuck,” said Brian, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He grabbed Justin’s hips to hold him still, and carefully pulled out. 

As soon as Brian’s dick was out of his ass, Justin twisted again, and found himself on his feet next to the bed, not entirely sure how he’d gotten there. Brian was looking at him, his eyes wide and dark, eyebrows furrowed. 

Justin gulped back a taste of bile. “Nothing,” he said, “nothing.” He turned and bolted to the bathroom, locked the door behind him. He felt like he might throw up, and hunched over the toilet bowl for a minute, heart beating fast.

Justin closed his eyes. Then he sank to the floor, leaning his back against the sink, and stared at the patterns in the tile. 

 

*

 

His ass was cold from sitting on the floor, and Justin wasn’t sure he could even think about getting up yet. 

Brian had knocked at the door a couple of times. Justin didn’t have any idea what he could say, and so he hadn’t answered.

He heard a few more thumps from the other side of the door, like something being kicked or shoved around. Justin dragged his hands over his face roughly, trying to rub out the tension building behind his eyes. Justin had left Brian without an explanation for far too long, he was probably going nuts. 

Climbing slowly to his feet, Justin glanced in the mirror. Yeah. Looked like shit. About how he’d expected. It didn’t look too much like he’d been crying, though.

 

*

 

When Justin came out of the bathroom, Brian was fully dressed and had his bags already sitting next to the door.

Justin stopped mid-step. He felt a sudden inching rush of panic, and the hairs down his spine felt like they were burning. “What are you doing?” he said.

“I’m spending the night at a hotel,” Brian said. 

Justin rubbed his temples. “Umm. You don’t have to.”

“I think I do,” said Brian. His tone was calm and measured. When Justin looked more closely, he could see small tremors shuddering across Brian’s hands.

Justin took a breath. Shit. “I’m sorry.” 

He realized that while he’d locked himself in the bathroom, Brian had probably been freaking out beyond belief. Because Justin had never done that to him before, never just made him... _stop._

Aware that he was completely naked, Justin quickly grabbed a pair of pants off the floor to slip into, and gave a self-conscious laugh. He zipped his pants up and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t deal with this. 

“Shit... Why is this so hard?” 

Brian blinked. “You want to know why? ‘Why is it so hard’? ‘Why is it weird’?” he said. He looked Justin dead center and shook his head. “Because it’s been too fucking long. That’s all.”

“We’ve talked on the phone at least every other day,” said Justin.

“It’s not the same,” said Brian.

He was right. But –

“Don’t do this,” said Justin.

Brian laughed. “Which of us is doing this, sonny boy? You’re the one that’s going fucking nuts being around me. And after I nearly rape you –“

“You didn’t –“

“I _know_ ,” Brian said. “I know. It wasn’t... But what the fuck was that? Why? And what were you doing in the bathroom, _crying_?”

“Listen!” Justin snapped. “I’m not some fucking pathetic asshole, okay? I’m not the only one freaking out here. You’re fucking me like I’m some fucking _trick_ –“

“What?”

“You were. You were. I knew you were.”

Brian’s face closed in. “Justin, -”

“So why _the fuck_ is this so hard? It shouldn’t be! I didn’t think it would be, and neither did you, so don’t try to pin all this on me.” Justin drew back against the wall and crossed his arms tightly.

Brian snorted. “Fine. You want to know why this is hard? I’ll tell you how it was before tonight. It was wanting to fuck you and not being able to. It was going home and knowing that you wouldn’t be there, that I couldn’t just call you. It was _that_. It’s still going to be _that_ after I leave here. That’s why it’s so _fucking_ hard!”

“Fuck you. This is not about the extra two months,” Justin’s voice raised, “This is about you treating me like I’m not even here! Like I’m nothing! Like I didn’t miss you too, miss you so bad, like you’re the only fucking one that has an _excuse_!”

Brian shook his head from side to side, like he couldn’t deal with Justin straight on. “No, it’s not about the two months. But do you think that helped? Knowing that you were going to be here for an even longer time than we thought. And that’s only the – _fuck this_. Fuck.”

Justin knew in that moment, with complete and chilling certainty, that Brian was going to turn and walk out the door, and Justin would never see him again. Something inside him cracked.

But the moment passed, and Brian looked down at the tops of his shoes.

“Stay,” said Justin, almost desperate to get the word out.

Brian didn’t say anything.

“I - I don’t know, okay?” Justin would _not_ let his voice crack. “Just _stay_.”

Brian looked up at him. He slowly nodded, and went over and sat down on the bed.

Justin sat down next to him, thighs touching. 

“I’m sorry,” said Justin again.

Brian gave him a faint smile. “What’s there to be sorry for?” he said tiredly. 

Justin could have given him a list, but he knew that wasn’t what Brian wanted. 

Cautiously, he tucked himself against Brian’s side and curled his arms around Brian’s waist. Brian looked out the open window next to the bed, and didn’t acknowledge him.

“It’s pretty,” Justin whispered.

Brian said, “Yeah.”

The sun was almost completely set, but against the darkening blue, there were still strands of florescent orange and pink. An unearthly glow came from behind a building a few blocks away, the last remnant of the actual sun. Justin tucked his chin over Brian’s shoulder and tightened his embrace.

“I’ll stay,” Brian said softly. “You know I will. I won’t go to a hotel. You don’t have to hold me down, or whatever the fuck.”

“I know,” said Justin.

Brian still sat stiffly, shoulders straight. He didn’t turn to look at Justin. “I’m not sure I can get to sleep tonight,” he said offhandedly. “I’m still pretty wired from the flight.”

“That’s okay,” Justin said, “I don’t mind.”

They sat there for several minutes, until the sky was completely dark. At least, as dark as the sky ever is in LA.

Brian slowly sagged back into Justin’s embrace, melting into him. 

Justin nuzzled Brian’s ear, and was just about to say something quiet and dumb when he realized that Brian had fallen asleep. That he’d just fallen asleep in Justin’s arms, the exhaustion and upheaval suddenly catching up with him. 

Justin slowly and carefully laid Brian back on the bed, trying not to wake him, and with a bit of difficulty, Justin hoisted Brian’s legs from the edge up onto the mattress like he was a five year-old.

Justin had become very comfortable with insomnia in the previous months, and knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. Justin was somewhat surprised that Brian could, but Brian had probably been a lot more tired than he’d thought. 

Brian’s face was shadowed from the street light still coming through the window, and his head was tilted back gently, mouth open, breath still heavy in his chest. Justin could hear it catch slightly on his exhale.

Justin didn’t know what to do next. A part of him hoped that he wouldn’t _have_ to know. Maybe in the morning, they’d wake up and just fit together again, maybe they’d just click back in synch. 

Maybe when Brian woke up, things would be okay and Justin could even finish in LA before those extra two months came around. Go back to Pittsburgh sooner. Go back home. Maybe.

Or maybe he should just hope that Brian would stay a few more nights, and not decide to catch the next flight back to Pittsburgh.

Justin gently stroked Brian’s cheek, let his fingers run through the hair at his temples, and then placed his hand on Brian’s chest, feeling the quiet thump. He curled against Brian’s side, still touching him.

And he stayed there until morning, his palm over Brian’s heart, his eyes open.


End file.
